


Another Door Closes

by elem (elem44)



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-29
Updated: 2013-05-29
Packaged: 2018-08-16 14:39:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8106208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elem44/pseuds/elem
Summary: This is a rather angsty Post Endgame J/C piece with the requisite happy ending, of course.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2013 Vamb Picture Prose Competition. Thanks once more to Gates Hepburn, Quantumsilver and Audabee for running the comp and the wonderful talents of Tachyon for her visual prompt. Kudos, my friends.
> 
> Thanks again to Kim J for the fabulous beta and to Corinna for the read through.

He groaned, his hot breath bathed her neck, sending a sharp surge of something – she wasn’t sure what or whether she wanted to know – spearing through her insides.  How the hell had they managed to find themselves here? She had no clue, but it was where they were and what they needed – for now.

They’d been home for three months, both of them emotionally raw and psychologically spent from the constant grind of debriefings and public appearances. Their lives were not their own and the upheaval of their shock arrival on Earth and the sudden change in their circumstances had succeeded in throwing their entire world into chaos. Everything was different. The crew had scattered, her ship was gone, her mother and sister were systems away, and far too many old friends and colleagues had been lost in the Dominion war.

His family were long dead or far distant and his burgeoning relationship with Seven of Nine had been an early casualty of their precipitous return to the Alpha Quadrant.

They were alone, with only each other to turn to, so in a way it had been bound to happen. That’s what she kept telling herself and the explanation seemed to work, as long as she didn’t try to analyze the situation too carefully.

He would come to her door late at night after another harrowing day of questions and interviews; they’d exchange a quiet greeting and then fall into bed, wrap themselves around one another and take comfort from the closeness and what she liked to think of as belonging, rather than expedience.  It was the only time she felt alive. The weight of his body on hers, the pulsing heat of him inside her and the chest-aching need they had for one another was enough to get her through another day. They didn’t talk about what they were doing; they made a point of not referencing it at all. He would leave before she awoke in the morning and they would be all business as they faced their interrogators. The charade would continue during their full day of deflecting and dissembling, being questioned again and again on the same topics over and over until they were excused. Exhausted and emotionally spent, they would trudge to a nearby restaurant and eat – barely tasting the food – before going their separate ways.

Until later in the evening when a light tap on her door would herald his arrival.

He would step through the opening, a look of mild apology in his eyes that she refused to acknowledge. This was theirs – theirs alone – and in the dark hours of the night, it was easy to forget about the real world outside their walls and simply sink into the deep well of need and want. In a way, they were both using each other but she didn’t want to think about that too much either.

Stuck in this emotional vacuum, isolated and alone, this was the only way to feel anything. She wanted to forget the past and didn’t want to dwell on the future – about what was going to happen when the numbness began to lift and the glass shards of reality began to needle their way up their limbs to their hearts. Would what they had be enough to survive the creeping onslaught? She wasn’t sure, thus she refused to acknowledge it.

It hurt too much to contemplate losing him but the practical Kathryn knew that they couldn’t maintain this intensity without dealing with the emotional fallout somewhere down the line. So, for now, she just held on tighter, sinking her teeth into his shoulder as he pounded into her, spilling his hurt, fear and anger into her sucking warmth.

They barely talked anymore. They were talked out by the end of each day and she missed their conversations. Sometimes, when she caught him looking at her, as he was now, she had a feeling that he did, too. This wasn’t them – the heaving, sweaty, clawing creatures they’d become in the early hours of every morning. It wasn’t a ‘them’ that she recognized or particularly liked, but it was what they had to be for now. But fear was seeping in. Fear that he’d leave, fear that he’d stay, fear that this was all they’d ever be to one another – an empty vessel for each other’s pain. It was destructive and soul numbing and she was truly afraid for them both. There was too much at stake; too many years of friendship and respect to squander on a few hours of desperate, mindless gratification.

In his eyes, she could see the sadness and fear that she knew was reflected in her own.

As much as she needed him, she loved him too much to keep doing this to him but now that they were on this downward spiral, she didn’t know how to reverse the cycle without visiting a world of hurt upon them both.

As a heartbreaking exclamation mark to her thoughts, in his sleep, he pulled her closer, his arm protectively draped over her waist, keeping her safe, his hand, a warm caress over her heart.   She stared across the room at the closed door and wondered what to expect on the other side.

* * *

A brittle slice of sunlight cut across her bed through a gap in the curtains and she rolled over, her hand sliding onto the cold empty sheets on his side of the bed. He was gone, just as he’d been gone each morning for the last three months but for some reason, his absence today sent a chill down her spine.  It was the last day of their debriefings and by this afternoon, they would be free to begin their leave and pick up where their lives left off seven years ago. She could go home to Indiana; she could go anywhere and so could he. The chill began to creep into her bones.

She’d made no plans past today. She hadn’t wanted to, because deep down she knew that they wouldn’t involve Chakotay. They couldn’t. Not in the way that they had up until now – something had to give. But she loved him. She knew that now. She’d known it for a long time but accepting that fact in the face of their current circumstances had been too difficult, too real. She wanted things to be the same as they had been before. Before they’d breached those barriers, before her heart had been flayed open and filled with his intense but tender need. Before she knew how his lips felt on her skin, how his breath caught when he touched her and how the warm weight of his body felt against hers. Grief was already wending its way into her heart but there was nothing she could do to stave off the inevitable. She could already feel the cracks in her heart widening with the thought of living without him.

It was getting late and she needed to get up but she hesitated for a moment. Before she could think too much about it, she rolled over once more and buried her face in his pillow, inhaling the scent of him, the musky smell of sex, sweat and life. She inhaled deeply several times, committing it all to memory and then she pivoted to her feet and made her way to the bathroom to wash the scent of their folly from her skin for the last time.

* * *

She strode through the entrance at Headquarters on her way to the debriefing rooms; she was running a few minutes late. Chakotay was already there and stood as she approached.

He gave her a small smile. “Good morning.”

Her smile was a little grimmer but as was their habit, she didn’t explain why. She simply shrugged and said, “I hope you’re right.”

Before either of them could say anything more, the steward called them into the room and the merry-go-round of questions began again.

They broke briefly for lunch and the final session started a few minutes before 1400. By 1700 they were finished and dismissed with a cursory, “Enjoy your leave, Captain and Commander, and thank you for your cooperation.”

Standing side by side outside the doors of Headquarters, it took all of Kathryn’s willpower to stop the rising panic from overwhelming her. It was now or never. In that instant, she made up her mind to ask him to stay with her. They could start again from scratch; try to forget the last few months and begin with a clean slate.

She turned towards him. “Chakotay, I don’t quite know how to broach this subject, we’ve never really talked about it but it’s been on my mind and I…”

His shoulders sagged and he shook his head. “It’s okay, Kathryn. You don’t have to say it, I know; we have to move on. I always knew that this wasn’t a permanent arrangement and to make things easier for both of us, I have booked a berth on this evening’s shuttle to Jupiter Station and then on to Deep Space Nine and my home planet. My sister is there and she’s anxious to see me.”

The words Kathryn intended to say died on her lips as she tried to absorb his news. He was leaving. The thing she feared most was happening and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do to stop it. Telling him she loved him now would seem manipulative in the extreme. She couldn’t force him to stay and if he could cut the ties so easily, then perhaps it was better that he go.

He would always be her friend and she knew that he cared about her, but it was obvious now that she had seen love where there was none and that it was truly about expediency after all. Biting back tears and swallowing her hurt, Kathryn gave Chakotay a hug. His arms tightened around her and his scent filled her nostrils, triggering memories too bittersweet to deal with now. Those memories would be all she would have and before the threatening tears began to fall, she stepped back from him and smiled.

“Thank you for everything, Chakotay. I hope you find what you’re looking for. Be happy, my friend, and stay in touch.”

“You too, Kathryn. Thank you for seven of the most amazing years of my life. I’ll miss you.”

They would miss each other but he was right to make the break – one of them had to show some sense. She’d known this day was coming and pretending or hoping that she could wring a happy ending out of the events of the last few months had been a foolish dream. He was doing what was best for both of them but it didn’t make it any easier to accept or stop the cold sense of foreboding gnawing at her heart.

There was nothing else to say and she held her breath as he took a long look at her before he turned and walked away.

She could only bear to watch his retreating figure for a moment before she also turned away. Clenching her hands tightly by her side, she forced herself to take one step after another in the opposite direction. So focused was she on willing herself to move, she didn’t see him turn and look at her, his face a picture of raw anguish.

They had both just made the biggest mistake of their lives.

* * *

Kathryn packed her meager belongings and transported them and herself to Indiana. The old house was still there although it had been empty for quite some time. Five years ago, her mother had followed Phoebe and her family to O’Ryan’s Planet and settled there; the pain of living alone in a house filled with the echoes and ghosts of her dead husband and daughter had been too much to bear. Gretchen couldn’t bring herself to sell the house though, and once word had come through that Kathryn was still alive, she’d made certain that its upkeep was maintained but she’d remained on the distant planet that she now called home, too old and frail to make the long journey back to Earth.

The house looked the same as always and Kathryn took a moment to get her bearings. Standing on the front lawn, she could have been five years old again; it was all so achingly familiar. A deep breath later, she mounted the steps and keyed in the code for the front door. It swung open and she was hit by a wave of nostalgia that was both painful and heartening.

She was home.

It wasn’t quite the homecoming she’d envisaged but it was better than the alternative and once she’d settled in, she would take some time to reassess the trajectory of her life.

It took her several hours to get the place into a livable condition and it was well into the early hours of the morning before she curled up on her bed to try to sleep. She couldn’t though – not without him. Every time she closed her eyes, visions and memories would fill the blank canvas of her mind – his hands skittering across the skin of her belly, his parted lips pressed against her breast, the feel of his straining muscles under her hands and the taste of his skin. It was all too real and too raw, and although she’d promised herself she wouldn’t, the ache in her throat and the burn of unshed tears were too hard to fight any longer. For the first time in years, she gave in to the urge and cried herself to sleep.

Four hours later, gritty eyed and feeling less than rested, Kathryn greeted the morning with what little enthusiasm she could muster. There were things that needed to be done and she forced herself to get up and get on with the day. She knew from experience that if she persisted, eventually the momentum of life would begin to carry her forward.

She spent much of the day investigating the rest of her family home. She toured the outbuildings and walked the perimeter of their land, reacquainting herself with her roots. It was something she’d dreamed about almost every night in the Delta Quadrant and the simple sensation of running her fingers through the long grass, breathing deeply of the scent of damp earth and listening to the birdcalls and crickets, soothed her in ways that hours of counseling never could.

Loneliness was always a lurking monster and although she was happy with her own company, she wasn’t foolish enough to think that she could live the life of a hermit and remain sane. Thus, after several days of her new routine, she sat down at the comm. terminal and began making some calls.

Tom and B’Elanna were genuinely delighted to hear from her as was Harry and the Doctor. They all made promises to visit as soon as they were able.

In some rather startling news, Seven of Nine had quit Earth and chosen to reside on Vulcan, taking a position at the Vulcan Science Academy. She spoke to Kathryn at length about her discomfort of living amongst so many Humans and how she’d battled with her emotions after the removal of her fail-safe device. She insisted that the affinity she felt for the Vulcan mindset and philosophy of emotional control best suited her demeanor. In her words, she had found peace and a renewed sense of purpose with her new collective in the wake of the dissolution of the one she’d established on Voyager. Kathryn was relieved for the young woman and confident that Tuvok – who was now fully recovered – and Vorik would monitor her progress and keep her apprised.

* * *

The days rolled by in predictable succession. The nights were long and lonely but the days were spent bringing life back into the old house. Kathryn kept busy and made lists of repairs needed for the old barn and fences. She tended the garden – a chore that triggered unforeseen emotions. Memories of New Earth and those simpler, sweeter times gave new life to old feelings and she shed rare tears into the tilled soil, her heart still aching for Chakotay. It was a reminder of just how entwined their lives had been and how hard it was to untangle the vine-like tendrils that bound them together. For now, it was too difficult to even try.

Tom, B’Elanna, Miral and Harry came to visit as they’d promised and Kathryn spent a delightful day with her former senior staff, laughing, reminiscing and swapping war stories. Chakotay’s name was mentioned many times and, although she tried to hide her hurt, that part of her heart was still an open wound and every mention of his name was like a dash of salt on raw flesh.

B’Elanna wasn’t shy about voicing her opinion on Chakotay’s desertion and railed angrily, blaming Seven, Starfleet and casting doubt on his manhood as to the reasons why he’d left so suddenly. Kathryn let her vent but remained aloof and silent. She knew that hurt and sadness were the fuel behind B’Elanna’s fiery anger and Kathryn understood too well the young mother’s feelings. She’d experienced similar bouts of fury at his absence, but they were short lived and usually followed by long moments of regret.

Kathryn was also aware that Tom, for his part, had been watching her, gauging her reactions and accurately assessing her emotional vulnerability. His talent for reading people was one of his much-underrated skills and his knowing eyes held hers several times during the day, steering past her stoic facade and straight to the seat of her heartache. Had they been on Voyager and still immersed in their roles of captain and crew, she might have tried harder to camouflage her pain, but this was a new phase in all their lives and sharing the burden, as unspoken as it was, made her feel less alone. Given time, she might even find the nerve to speak to B’Elanna about the real reason behind Chakotay’s withdrawal from the fold, but for now, she was simply grateful for their support and friendship.

Voyager’s homecoming had become something of a double-edged sword for many of the crew. Joy, for the majority of the returnees was tempered by loss; loss of both the uniqueness of their journey and the deep friendships they’d forged. Through necessity and circumstance, they had become an exquisitely tight-knit group, dependent on one another for all their needs, both physical and emotional, and those immutable bonds that had formed, at the moment, seemed stretched to their limits by distance and separation. It made Kathryn jealously guard those relationships that she still maintained.

Over the following weeks, as she spent more and more time with Tom and B’Elanna, the barriers of rank slowly frayed and dissipated.

* * *

Three months had passed since Chakotay’s departure and although Kathryn still missed him in that awful way that had a habit of catching her off guard with a sharp stab to the heart, the constant yearning had ebbed to a dull ache that she simply accepted as part of her life.

She knocked on the door of the Paris-Torres abode and it opened almost immediately. A quick hug from B’Elanna was her welcome as Miral babbled and grinned at her from her mother’s arms. Her visits to San Francisco had become more frequent over the past weeks, and her friendship with B’Elanna had deepened and matured. It was a source of great comfort to her and she sometimes regretted not exploring these relationships more vigorously in the Delta Quadrant. But like many of her regrets, there was nothing she could do about them now; they were a part of her past and as difficult as it was to let them go, it was time she started looking towards her future.

It was a hot day in late July when she finally broached with B’Elanna the subject of her failed relationship with Chakotay. She hoped that her young friend’s close friendship with him would render insights that Kathryn had neglected to consider and she looked to B’Elanna for answers to questions she’d been loath to ask herself. Had she done the right thing in letting him go rather than fighting for him to stay? Had he really been as committed to leaving as he appeared to be or was it a mammoth misunderstanding? Was there any hope for them in the future and if so, what should she do about it?

Kathryn’s story appeared to come as no surprise to B’Elanna; apparently, Tom had already speculated that something had happened between Kathryn and Chakotay during those few months of seclusion. This, in turn, had been part of the reason why B’Elanna had been so furious with her old comrade for deserting them.

When Tom joined them later that afternoon, Kathryn posed the same questions to him in the hope that he would have something concrete to contribute.

He simply said that the ball was in Chakotay’s court but that a little push in the right direction wouldn’t do any harm. He didn’t elaborate though and after throwing an enigmatic smile her way, he’d taken Miral up to bed and they didn’t see him for the rest of the evening.

* * *

Tom ducked his head as he stepped from the shuttle and then looked around the bay at the milling crowds. Deep Space Nine felt eerily familiar, not much had changed in the almost eight years since his last visit. It seemed a lifetime ago and he supposed that in a sense, it was.

Hoisting his bag a little higher on his shoulder, he wove his way to the exit.

Chakotay’s last all-too-brief communiqué had been sent from here. According to those in-the-know, he was working with an independent franchise, facilitating the repatriation of Bajorans and displaced ex-members of the Maquis to friendly planets in the area. Most of those affected by the Dominion war had already found their way back to their homes but there were still a few straggling refugees looking for places to live and help to do so. It was the type of work, Tom thought, well suited to their ex-first officer with his strong sense of justice and honor.

Tom had mixed feelings about this trip, even though initially, it had been his idea. He was disappointed with Chakotay and the choice he’d made but knew that matters of the heart were never clear-cut or simple. He’d been married to B’Elanna for long enough now that he’d had lots of practice maneuvering through the minefield of someone else’s emotional needs and wants. Filtering through the complexities of translating words and their meanings when one didn’t necessarily correlate with the other, was not an easy task. Learning the language of love was a tricky business, especially if one’s happiness relied solely upon the happiness of another. It could get very complicated.

The captain and commander had been dancing around each other for years. Tom’s innate intuitiveness had picked up on their mutual attraction almost from the beginning, and it had been a source of great amusement as well as delight for the crew to watch their command team’s, at times, clumsy two-step or tripping waltz of denial. But ‘the heart wants what the heart wants,’ as his mother had always said, and they were two people who needed to be together to be whole. And whole was not what Kathryn Janeway was at the moment. She was merely subsisting, struggling in a day to day search for normalcy that was slowly wearing her down. Stoic to a fault and stubborn as a mule, he had no doubt that she would recover and move on with her life; she was nothing if not resilient and no one’s fool. But there was something vital missing from her life and Tom knew exactly what that was. He wasn’t surprised to hear that they’d become lovers during their time in debriefings but in that strangely artificial world of isolation – the limbo between their old life and new, sequestered and alone – the relationship had stagnated and spoiled. But the love was still there and it was up to him to find Chakotay and try to convince him to come home.

Home, being Kathryn.

There had been no real plan made for this trip and Tom was playing most of it by ear but he wanted to observe Chakotay unseen to start with and then decide if confronting him was his best option. There was always the chance that the man had moved on and was happy in his new life, although Tom had his doubts.

He swore that Kathryn and Chakotay were joined in some metaphysical way; he was certain of it. Their bond was so unique and so tangible that he couldn’t see it being broken unless one of them died and even then, all bets were off.

After finding his accommodations and stowing his gear, Tom found his way to Quark’s Bar. It was the social hub of the station and if he wanted to find someone, it was as good a place as any to start. He sidled up to the bar and scanned the room. There was no sign of Chakotay but a rowdy game of Dabo was in full swing in the centre of the room and a colorful cross section of the galaxy’s finest were plying their trades and making short work of the lounge’s extensive menu of alcoholic beverages. It was a given that drinking establishments across the star systems were all pretty much alike. The decor and mix of clientele might differ but the basics were the same – booze, noise and blowhards.

Tom ordered a beer and found a quiet corner where he could sit and watch the entrance. It wasn’t likely that he’d be recognized by anyone other than Chakotay but he kept to the shadows just in case. Taking slow sips of his brew, he watched the ebb and flow of patrons and thought of B’Elanna and Miral. It had only been a week since he’d left Earth but he missed them dreadfully. His family – his heart swelled with pride at the thought – had become the center of his universe and his daughter the light of his life. Looking back at the brash young man he’d been the last time he was in this bar, he was barely recognizable. Not simply because he was older, broader and had less hair, he was now one of the happiest men he knew. Instead of the bitterness and anger-tinged shame he’d carried with him for years, he was now filled with a sense of purpose and accomplishment. He’d proven to his father, the world and more importantly, to himself, that he was a good man, a brave and honorable man and a man who had worth. B’Elanna had much to do with his newfound sense of achievement, as did his baby girl, but a lot of thanks went to Kathryn Janeway for her willingness to take a chance on him when almost everyone else had given up. The faith she’d shown in him from day one had been the catalyst for his reclamation. Admiral Patterson had recently spoken to him about his ex-captain’s dogged insistence that Tom be allowed to join the original mission. She’d told the Admiral that ‘everyone deserved a second chance’ and in the end, it had been his salvation.

This was his opportunity to return the favor and rescue both her and Chakotay from a life of lonely exile and heartbreak. It was the very least he could do.

Three hours and two beers into his vigil, his patience paid off. Chakotay walked through the entrance, found a place by the bar and began scanning the room as though he were looking for someone. Tom sank further back into the shadows.

Whomever Chakotay was hoping to find obviously wasn’t there, so he ordered a drink and settled in to wait. The garrulous bartender tried to engage him in conversation but he made no effort to respond, merely nodding distractedly before hoisting himself onto a barstool to drink in silence.

Tom studied him from a distance. It had been close to six months since he’d last seen him and he could see the subtle changes that constant sadness inflicts on a person’s demeanor and appearance. He was thinner, less robust looking and there was a resigned slump to his posture. It didn’t take a genius to see that this was not a happy man, not by a long shot, but it was too early to tell if Kathryn’s absence was the reason behind his hangdog mien.

Ten minutes later a woman arrived and moved straight to Chakotay’s side. She touched his shoulder and he turned. The transformation was miraculous, his entire bearing changed. He beamed at her, pulled her into his arms and hugged her. Stepping back and still grinning, he cupped the woman’s face between his hands and kissed her forehead before pulling her back into his arms again. Tom frowned and tried to gauge the depth and nature of the relationship that Chakotay’s greeting might signify but it was hard to know. The woman was younger than Chakotay by several years and she was very beautiful – dark haired, dark eyed and exotic. Chakotay had always had an eye for beauty so it was quite possible that she was his new lover. The pair found a vacant table and, after ordering more drinks, sat down and began talking. All Tom could do was keep watching and wait for the story to unfold.

His vigilance was rewarded once more when a man joined the pair some thirty minutes later; he also hugged Chakotay and then kissed the woman on the lips and draped a proprietary arm around her shoulders. A smile spread across Tom’s face. Excellent; this wasn’t Chakotay’s new squeeze.

Breathing a little easier, Tom decided that the way was clear for him to approach but perhaps it would be better to wait until Chakotay was alone.

The trio spent an hour talking before the woman and man said their good-byes. Chakotay watched them leave and with their departure, the weight that had lifted so briefly during their visit, once again settled over his shoulders. He moved back to the bar and ordered another drink.

After tossing back the shot of liquor, he slapped a piece of latinum down on the counter before sliding off the barstool and heading for the door.

Tom followed suit.

Hanging back at a distance, Tom tailed Chakotay, his distinctive swagger easy to spot amongst the sea of Bajorans and other aliens on the promenade. He was heading in the general direction of the habitat wing, past several staterooms and banquet halls. A small crowd was milling outside one of the larger venues and for a moment, Tom lost sight of his quarry. He jostled past the group and peered up the deserted corridor. Chakotay had disappeared. He couldn’t have gone far and was probably just around the next bend, so picking up his pace, Tom strode along the hallway determined to find his mark.

Suddenly, he was gasping for breath and seeing stars.

It had happened so fast. One second, he was walking towards the habitat ring and the next, he was bailed up against the wall with a forearm across his throat and Chakotay’s angry face glaring into his.

Tom decided right then and there that his ninja stalking skills needed some drastic work but at least he had Chakotay’s attention. He tried to smile but it was difficult when one couldn’t breathe.

He choked out a garbled, “Hey, Chakotay.”

Nostrils flaring and fiery-eyed, the older man gave him a sharp shove before taking a sudden step back. Tom slumped against the wall, hauling air into his lungs in great wheezing gulps. He limply waved another greeting to his old commander. It wasn’t reciprocated.

“What the hell are you doing here, Paris?”

“Chakotay. It’s good to see you… I think.”

“Answer me.”

“Give me a minute. You know, someone just tried to choke me and I’m having a bit of trouble speaking past a crushed larynx.” Tom stood straighter, coughed a couple of times and then swallowed to make sure he still could.

Chakotay waited in stony silence.

Tom extended his hand. “It’s been a while. How have you been?”

Chakotay reluctantly returned the handshake but his frown didn’t lift and he took a small but threatening step towards Tom. “I’ve been fine. What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you. I was trying to catch up to you but…”

“You weren’t, you were following me. Why?”

“I wanted to talk to you about Kathryn, but before I did, I needed to see how the land lay, so to speak.”

“What about Kathryn? Is she all right?”

“She’s healthy enough but whether she’s all right or not is a matter of opinion. She misses you. She misses you very much.”

Chakotay at least had the decency to look pained but the expression was fleeting and the angry frown returned almost instantly. “She sent you?”

“Hell, no. She doesn’t even know I’m here, although B’Elanna has probably spilled the beans by now but that’s not important. I… or rather we, as in B’Elanna and I, we want you to come home. Kathryn is miserable, you’re miserable and all it would take to sort this out is for you to come back and be with her. It’s where you belong. You know that, she knows that, hell, the whole damned Federation knows that –”

“Shut up, Paris.”

It probably would have been wise to take heed of the rising flush on Chakotay’s cheeks but Tom didn’t and continued pleading his case. “–I know you don’t want to hear this but we’re worried about her and now that I’ve seen you, I’m worried about you, too. You need to come back to Earth, clear the air with Kathryn and find a way to fix this.”

Chakotay took an ominous step forward and Tom made his mistake by placing a placating hand on the other man’s chest. The instant he touched him, Chakotay exploded. “ _Fuck off_ , Paris. You have no idea what you’re talking about. You know nothing about my life and you have the gall to turn up here and try to manipulate me into going back. It’s not going to happen. I made my decision, I did what she wanted me to do and I left. She can’t have it both ways.”

“She didn’t _want_ you to leave. You didn’t listen to what she had to say, you just hopped on the first transport off planet. She loves you, you idiot. She always has.”

“She doesn’t.”

“How the hell would you know? You haven’t spoken to her in months.” This time Tom took a step forward. “And before you argue, a message, one sentence long, each month is not communicating.”

“It’s none of your goddamned business, Paris. Leave before I call security.”

“Really!? You’re going to pull that one on me! You’re an asshole, Chakotay.”

“Fuck you, Paris!”

Chakotay was quick but this time Tom was expecting the reaction and he easily blocked Chakotay’s swing before shoving him away.

“Classy, Commander.” Tom couldn’t believe it had come to this. His assumption that Chakotay wasn’t a happy man was dead on the money, but he was also punchy, belligerent and rude.  There was no point trying to talk sense into him while he was in this frame of mind. Besides, Kathryn didn’t need this.

Tom shook his head in disgust. “Forget it, Chakotay. I’m thinking now that maybe you did Kathryn a favor. I’ll tell her you said hello. Oh, and by the way, B’Elanna and Miral send their love.” He took one last look at the angry man in front of him before spinning on his heel and heading out into the corridor. He’d stay the night on the station and then catch the first available transport back to Earth in the morning.

He didn’t know what had happened to the Chakotay he once knew but the hostile, cursing prick he’d just dealt with was a far cry from the quiet, forthright man he’d once called friend. Maybe you can’t go back. Maybe once something is as profoundly damaged as it seemed Kathryn and Chakotay’s relationship was, it can’t be fixed and there’s no point even trying. It broke Tom’s heart to think that this once grand love affair was over. It took a little of the shine off his world and tarnished his faith in happy endings. It wasn’t supposed to be like this but he could do nothing more.

* * *

B’Elanna paced the shuttle port transit lounge impatiently waiting for Tom to arrive. He’d been gone for just over two weeks and although the outcome of their matchmaking attempt had been less than successful, she was dying to see him. She’d missed him more than she could have imagined. It was the longest they’d been apart in years and it took only that small separation to reaffirm just how much she loved the crazy guy.

Although she’d been tempted, B’Elanna hadn’t told Kathryn about Tom’s plan. And as to his whereabouts, she’d kept that vague as well. Considering the outcome, she was glad she’d remained silent. Kathryn would have been livid and the last thing any of them needed was to jeopardize their newfound friendship. It meant a great deal to B’Elanna and she knew that Kathryn felt the same. It was strange when she thought about it, that they’d become so close. Each came from completely different ends of the spectrum. Kathryn was ‘Fleet to the core, privileged and proud of her lineage, whereas B’Elanna had spent most of her life ashamed of her heritage, at odds with her mother and aloof from her father. Yet she and Kathryn had become the closest of friends over the last few months. Having a sounding board and another female to discuss life’s hiccups and concerns with was something new and delightful.

The doors opened and the passengers from Jupiter Station started spilling into the terminal. B’Elanna saw Tom immediately and as soon as he was near, she threw her arms around him and kissed him. He dropped his bag and returned the kiss with gusto.

When they finally broke apart, she grinned up at him. “Did I tell you how much I missed you?”

He laughed as he bent down and picked up his bag before draping his arm around her shoulder. “Only about a hundred times. I missed you, too. How’s Miral?”

“I swear she’s grown in the two weeks since you’ve gone. She missed you, too.”

“Let’s go home.”

B’Elanna simply nodded and led him out to the transporter station. They were home in minutes and after a series of cuddles with Miral, he and B’Elanna sat down with coffee and discussed the disaster of Tom’s failed rescue operation.

“I can’t believe he wouldn’t even talk to you.”

“He’s an angry man, these days, B’E. Maybe I should have stayed to try to talk some sense into him but he was past it and there really was no point. At least I got the chance to tell him that Kathryn missed him. That might sink in over time. Who knows?”

B’Elanna smiled sadly and ran her fingers through Tom’s hair – she needed to touch him for reassurance. He’d been away for only two weeks and she’d known he was coming back, but still longed for him and missed him so badly that it had been almost a physical ache. How Kathryn and Chakotay had coped with their separation and the knowledge that there would be no reconciliation was almost too heartbreaking to think about.

* * *

Chakotay shrugged off the aftermath of Paris’s surprise visit and revelations about Kathryn – or so he thought. He didn’t want to think about her. He’d spent too long expunging her from his heart to have the wound reopened and the burning anger, fuelled by her rejection, reignited. But he wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all himself.

He hadn’t forgotten a moment of their time together and if he closed his eyes, he could see her in all her exquisite glory. He could still smell her scent and remember the landscape of her body – each soft ridge and firm plain – and the feel of her silky skin under his fingertips, the smattering of freckles thereon, each one a landmark that he’d kissed or caressed. He distinctly remembered the taste of her salty sweetness and feel of her hot breath on his damp skin. They were memories that woke him in the night to torment him with visions of her arching and quaking in the throes of ecstasy; her throaty moans urging him on and calling his name.

She’d crawled under his skin to live there forever.

He never wanted to forget a second of it and as much as he’d known it was wrong, it had been worth every ounce of pain and heartache.

The truth was that they were good together, amazing in fact, and he would have given anything to stay with her but she deserved better and he’d known from the outset that once they were free of Starfleet and their obligations, she would have to leave him. They’d needed each other during those long months of questioning. The solid foundation of their lives had been ripped from under them with Voyager’s surprise return and they had been set adrift with only each other to sustain them. They’d been one another’s lifeline but he’d known eventually that they’d wash ashore and she wouldn’t need him anymore. It had been his duty to her, and to himself, to end their affair as swiftly and as painlessly as possible. Drawing it out over weeks or months would only prolong the agony. He’d done what he did for both of them and no amount of Paris’s pleading or Kathryn’s emotional blackmail would make him change his mind. He’d done what was best.

Why then did he feel as though he’d abandoned her and why did his heart still bleed?

* * *

Another week had passed since Paris’s visit and Chakotay was slowly sinking into a pit of anger, regret and self-recrimination.  He thought he’d had all his feelings on the matter neatly packed away, but the genie was out of the bottle again and he was awash with thoughts and questions – most of them unwanted. Was Paris right? Had Kathryn intended to say something more and he hadn’t been prepared to listen? Had he been too busy trying to protect himself and his aching heart to think about her needs and wants? Had he misunderstood her feelings, reading his own insecurities into her behavior and making a terrible mistake? These questions and more ricocheted around in his head. His days seemed endless and work was no respite. The initial flood of refugees had dropped to a mere trickle and the hours between wakefulness and sleep seemed never-ending, filled with hours of mental self-flagellation and bitter regret. Thoughts of her constantly churned and crashed against his restraint and he feared he was going mad.

His distraction and distress didn’t go unnoticed and the leader of their group called him into his office one afternoon to find out what was wrong and to offer help.

The first emotion to surface was anger at the man’s interference, but Chakotay bit back his harsh response. He assured his boss that he was all right and promised to lift his game. The man looked less than convinced but Chakotay was adamant.

He knew his boss was just trying to help but he didn’t want him meddling in business that was no one’s but his own. He didn’t want anything or anyone.

Except Kathryn. She was all he wanted.

It was hardly a revelation but his inner vehemence took him by surprise. It was the sad truth and it had taken him all this time to finally admit it to himself. He wanted her with every fiber of his being. He wanted to see her again, to hear her voice, her laugh, to touch her and smell her scent, and to simply be near her.

He yearned for her and he was dying inside without her.

He knew now what he had to do.

* * *

Kathryn inhaled deeply, stifling a sigh, before setting her coffee mug on the table. It had been another long day of negotiations with the Romulans over what she deemed as insurmountable differences with their closest neighbors, the Remans. There would be no positive outcome for any of those involved, each party refusing to concede even the smallest compromise. Not for the first time, she wished Chakotay were here to discuss the intricacies of the situation and offer his opinion. He always had a knack for reading between the lines and his analysis of the situation would have been a godsend.

She snorted and shook her head. They were poor excuses for what she really wanted.

Simply him.

She just wished he were here with her.

Shinzon and his demands, the sinister Remans and their pretense of civility, and all the other slightly suspicious aspects of this negotiation were sending warning signals to her inner red alert but she couldn’t get the other admirals to take notice. She was on her own, once more flying blind by the seat of her pants but without Chakotay’s steadfast support. God, she missed him and, closing her eyes, sent her love out into the ether with the hope that it would find its mark. It was a foolish gesture, she knew, but it made her feel as though there was still some connection between them, a small concession to fancy that gave her comfort.

She’d spent the previous month in a determined effort to get on with her life. With her leave over, she’d moved back to San Francisco and started work in her new position as a vice-admiral under the auspices of Starfleet Mission Operations and Intelligence. Her diplomatic skills were immediately put to the test dealing with the Romulan/Reman situation.

Along with all the other changes in her life, she felt it was as good a time as any to turn the page and she’d accepted a couple of dinner invitations from handsome, eligible men she’d met through work. They had all been perfect gentlemen. The outings had been enjoyable, the food delicious and the conversation adequate but none of her would-be suitors struck a chord and she had refused any second dates. After the fourth such outing, she decided that the dating scene wasn’t for her and had given up.

Sadly, she saw in herself the burgeoning beginnings of what Admiral Janeway had become. On the mornings after her many sleepless nights, Kathryn could see the woman from her past/future in the pale cheeks and bitter turn of her mouth and she mourned a little the Kathryn of old – the woman who had loved and been loved.  But it was her own fault. She hadn’t fought hard enough for the man she loved – the man she needed – and her failure had led to this.

As tragic as that aspect of her life was, she could still contribute and she wouldn’t be the only woman in Starfleet to devote her life to the cause. It wasn’t what she’d imagined for herself but it wasn’t the first time that circumstances had forced her to renegotiate her dreams.

She was a survivor, though, and she was a Janeway. That stood for something, she was still proud to say.

After refilling her coffee mug, she sat on the couch again and stared out the window at the night sky. It was a clear night but the glut of city lights dimmed the stars and she could see only a few glittering in the swathe of black. She missed them. In the Delta Quadrant, the stars had been her beacons; the changing landscape of them, evidence of their forward momentum and slow but sure quest for home. However, that was in the past now and she was inuring herself to the knowledge that her life was here and the stars, just like Chakotay, were still there, even if she couldn’t see them.

It was getting late and she had to be up early to present her latest findings to the Federation Council. Taking one last look at the night sky, she eased herself up from the couch and headed down the hallway to prepare for bed.

This, she’d found, was the most difficult time of day. Her bed beckoned, but with the thought of sleep came the memories – every bittersweet, heart-aching one of them. The nights she’d spent in Chakotay’s arms had taken on an almost dreamlike quality and she often woke drenched in sweat, her body clenching and quaking, crying out for what wasn’t there. The painful realization that followed twisted up her insides and she hated herself for her weakness. Sleep, at that point, would be forgotten and she spent many a night sitting by her window watching the world go by and wishing for things that she could never have.

She showered and slipped on her dressing gown, and then stared at her reflection. She gave a grim smile, telling herself silently that everything happened for a reason and that one day it would perhaps all make sense. Resignation washed over her and she turned away from the woman in the mirror, flicked off the light switch in the bathroom and took a step towards her bedroom.

She stopped almost mid stride and listened. Her head snapped towards the front door as it sounded again.

A gentle tap.

For the briefest of moments, she wondered if she were imagining things but it happened again and she just knew who it was.

Her heart hammered against her ribs and the air in the room suddenly seemed thinner, but her legs knew what to do and without hesitation, they carried her to the front door.

She opened it slowly, preparing herself for disappointment.

But he was there. _He was there!_

For countless seconds they just stood and stared at one another.

He looked different – leaner, hungrier – but his eyes were still as she remembered – dark, deep and full of warmth.

She swallowed past the tightness in her throat, “Chakotay.”

He blinked slowly before uttering her name in return.

Time seemed to have slowed and she felt as though she were wading through molasses but as if by habit, she stepped back to allow him to enter.

The door closed behind him with a quiet thud and they stood toe to toe in the narrow entranceway.

His familiar scent washed over her and they were close enough that she could feel the heat of his body on her exposed skin. She began to tremble.

She tried to stop herself, but as it had been with so much of their relationship, she had no power over what she wanted. Her body had its own agenda and before she knew what was happening, she pivoted forward, her forehead coming to rest against his chest.

He sucked in a breath at the contact, just before his arms wound around her and he pulled her hard against him.

It felt so good.

She could hear his heart thudding and feel the tension under his skin, the shiver of straining muscles and suppressed emotions.

Her hands knotted themselves into the fabric of his shirt, a reflex grip in case he thought to leave again.

It seemed though, that he had no intention of doing anything of the sort and bending his head, his lips skated past her ear and he whispered, “I love you.”

She sobbed but did not cry, although her hands gripped him tighter. She closed her eyes and her mouth rested against the pulse point on his neck as she breathed, “I love you, too.”

He lifted her then and her legs wrapped around his waist, her arms slung around his neck, and he carried her to the bedroom, her body shivering in anticipation.

Setting her down beside the bed, he slipped her dressing gown from her shoulders and let it puddle at her feet. His hands drifted down over her breasts, lips nudging at her collarbone, his hot breath branding her skin. She tried to guide him onto the bed with her but he didn’t move. Instead, he took her hand and kissed her palm before he let her go and turned towards her wardrobe.

She watched, perplexed as he carefully selected several items of her clothing and underwear.

He then he dropped to his knees in front of her and proceeded to dress her.

He took the greatest of care, his hands so gentle and tender as slipped on each article of clothing, kissing and nipping at her skin as he covered her. She’d thought that being undressed was arousing but she’d never experienced anything as erotic or sensual as this. Her body hummed; she’d never felt so alive or so loved.

When he finished, he lowered his mouth to hers and, throwing all of his heart and soul behind it, he kissed her. Then he stood back. “We need to talk. We’ve needed to talk for a long time and I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, please. We did what we had to do to survive, just as we’ve always done. But you’re here now and yes, we do need to talk. I’ve missed that… and you.”

He nodded solemnly and taking her hand, he led her to the front door. “Is now okay?”

She smiled and nodded. “Now is perfect.”

They stepped through the doorway and it closed behind them. Kathryn glanced over her shoulder and took a deep breath.

She knew now what was on the other side.

Happiness.

 

 

fin


End file.
